


Soldier On

by hamiltrashed



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Daydreaming, Friendship, Gen, Implied assholishness on the part of John Winchester, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 05:45:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamiltrashed/pseuds/hamiltrashed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean allows himself the occasional daydream about a life he can never have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soldier On

**Author's Note:**

> I was feeling a little sappy. I'm sorry (kind of).

Sometimes in the quiet moments, few and far between as they are, Dean dreams of a life away from this. This is not new to him; he’s wished for it a million, a billion times before. But lately there’s been an all consuming need to focus on hunting, to strive to complete a job that can never be completed. So the daydreams have been pushed aside, and now they only come when Dean allows them, when he can take a few minutes to breathe.

In a second, he can dream up a big house, bigger than he needs, bigger than the house he spent the first four years of his life in. He imagines it has a big kitchen, a mix of stainless steel and gritty feel, reflective of his style. The living room is huge, the TV takes up half a wall, and the complete DVD collection of Dr. Sexy, M.D. is lined up next to it. 

The bathroom is a palace with a tub to lay in, with massaging jets that will take away any kind of ache. And the bedroom is a kingdom, the bed a cloud, and Dean will never have to sleep stiff and straight like all those years of ‘yes sir’ taught him how to. There will be no knife under the pillow, no strategically placed rock salt and holy water. The demons will not exist, the monsters will be imaginary. (Except that Dean knows that sometimes people can be monsters too, so he’ll take precautions just the same.)

The bed will be big, more than big enough for two, because in this dream, there’s always room for another. For a blue-eyed, dark haired other, human now and needing sleep and comfort and closeness just like Dean. (And Dean will give him all of that and more.) Down the hall there’ll be a spare room for Sammy to come and stay whenever he wants. Or Charlie, too, because she’s always welcome.

And eventually, maybe, down the hall from that, there’ll be another room. A nursery. And maybe Dean will have nights where he gets no sleep because the baby just won’t stop crying. And on some of those nights, he’ll feel a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Cas will say, “Go back to bed. Get some sleep. My turn.”

It’ll feel real, this daydream. So real that Dean can taste the food he cooks in the kitchen, feel the comfort of the bed of his wildest imagination, the man that would lay beside him in it, and little things like the joy of holidays celebrated with family and friends. 

And then it’ll be gone, just as quickly. Sam will call to him with some new weird happening in some far flung tiny town across the country. He’ll snap out of it, feel sad and yearning for a long minute before he stands up, straightens up, and gives up; it’ll always be a normal man’s life, and Dean’s a hunter. A hunter soldiers on.


End file.
